Falling Blind: The Sentinel Wars

by Shannon K. Butcher

  “No. You’re right. This is something I need to do.”

  He frowned at her, and she felt a slight pressure behind her eyes and a soothing presence. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’ll be right there with you.”

  Her spine went straight out of habit more than anything. “I’m not afraid. But I’m also not stupid. That building where Krag died has got to be crawling with monsters.”

  “You mean the facility where Logan and Hope were held prisoner?”

  “Yeah. They weren’t the only ones.”

  “We cleaned it out. Demolished it. There’s nothing left but dirt and ash.”

  “So it’s safe?”

  “As we could make it.”

  “Then we should go there.” Before she lost her nerve and decided to hide under her bed for the rest of her life.

  “We’ll go, but Ronan needs to check you out first.”

  “I feel fine.”

  Cain waved toward the window. “Because of Andra’s protection. Once you go past her defenses, all bets are off.”

  She groaned in dismay and got off the bed. She couldn’t quite bring herself to let go of Cain’s hand, because she knew visions lurked beyond his touch. “If I’m going to have some vampire playing brain surgeon, I’m going to do it after a nice hot shower.”

  “There’s really no time for—”

  She got right in his face, which was much easier to do with him sitting on the bed. “Listen, Cain. My whole world is a pile of suck and desolation right now. I at least deserve clean hair.”

  He gave her a solemn nod. “Whatever you need. I won’t stand in your way.”

  He was so fucking patient with her, so kind. All she’d done so far was use him, and he’d been with her every step of the way, right there, unwavering and solid, as if she could throw anything at him, and he could take it.

  She wasn’t used to men like that. Usually they used her. And she hated it. Now she was doing the same thing to Cain, and it was only a matter of time before he caught on.

  Assuming he hadn’t already.

  Maybe he was wired differently. Maybe it was part of his old-school charm to be so . . . indulgent with her.

  Rory wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, he was wrapping her up, bit by bit, tying her to him in ways she hadn’t even known were possible.

  Even now, as she stripped and stepped into the shower, she could feel his concern for her traveling through the link between them. She could see through his eyes that he stood outside the bathroom door, staring at it.

  A heavy pulse of desire hit her hard, making her grip the wall to stay on her feet. Her thighs clenched together, and suddenly her senses went bionic. She could feel every drop of water cascading over her body, drenching her with wet heat. The smell of her soap swirled in the air on thick tendrils of steam. Even the rainy, white noise of the water hitting the tub was louder.

  She stared at the white wall, but all she saw was what Cain saw. His huge hand splayed over the wooden door, his fingers clenching as if he could reach through if he tried hard enough.

  And just like that, she wanted him in here with her, all slick and naked.

  A man as strong as him would have no trouble propping her against the wall and holding her there while he thrust deep. The question was whether a woman like her would be able to keep up. She’d had only two lovers, and neither one had been enough for her to wish for a third. Until now.

  Her sexual experience was a pitiful drop in a rusty bucket.

  A familiar presence wove through her thoughts, stroking against the most intimate parts of her. Desires, dreams, fantasies. Cain slipped in between all of them, lingering as if he had all the time in the world.

  What she wouldn’t give to find out just what patience like that could do to her in bed. She didn’t know if she’d survive it, but she knew she was more than willing to give it a try.

  Whatever you want.

  The words hadn’t been meant as any kind of seduction, but they felt that way now. She could think of a whole mountain of things she wanted, and every one of them started with him walking through the bathroom door.

  She found her connection to him, the humming heat encircling her neck. His essence thrummed in that link, tempting her.

  All of this magical stuff was new to her, but parts of her seemed to instinctively know what to do. She had only to think of letting him feel what she did, and she could sense the reverberation of her emotions rippling between them. She let him feel her desire, let him feel what it did to her when she imagined him touching her.

  Rory’s hands slid over her body, showing him what she liked most—what made her breath catch in her chest, and what made her whimper in pleasure.

  His hand tightened into a fist against the door. She swore she felt his cock harden and throb, though she had no idea how that could happen. His lust was rougher than hers, but no less demanding. The jagged edges of it cut at her, making her ache to bring him relief.

  Whatever you want.

  She tried to show him what she wanted, but her inexperience left the fantasy flat and colorless. Cain grabbed hold of it, layering on color and texture, sounds and scents, until the picture he painted was vivid and glowing with promise.

  His hands roamed her slick curves. He wrapped his body around her, trapping her under the hot spray. The cage of his naked arms and chest was one she reveled in, letting her fingers stroke and pet until he was shaking with tension.

  His mouth found hers, so hot and hungry, her head spun from lack of oxygen. Not that she cared. As long as he didn’t stop, she was happy to let him do whatever he wanted.

  He kissed his way down her neck, over her collarbone. His erection lay hard and heavy against her belly. His pulse pounded there, and she wanted to feel that beat inside of her more than she wanted her next breath.

  Cain didn’t let her rush. Any other man would have been inside of her by now.

  She was ready for him, slick and hollow and needy. She was hovering on the edge, so close to coming she knew it would take only one stroke to send her flying. But that stroke did not come. Not with a man as patient as Cain.

  The fantasy played on, sucking her along for the ride. In her mind she saw him reach for the bathroom door knob. His fist tightened around it. Tendons in his arm shifted to turn the knob.

  He was going to walk through the door. The real man, in the flesh. She was going to get everything she wanted, whether or not she could handle it.

  A second later, Ronan’s pretty face appeared, looming large in her vision. He’d interrupted Cain—stopped him from opening the door.

  The fantasy collapsed. Rory was left shaking and desperately needy, shivering under a stream of cooling water.

  Outside the door, she could hear the two men talking. She could see both of their faces, their mouths moving. The actual words were lost to her, but the tone of the conversation was clear enough.

  Time for Rory to get out of the shower and face her demons. Literally.

  Chapter 16

  It had been a long time since Cain had wanted to kill one of his allies, but Ronan was asking for it. He had to have known what was going on. Cain’s galloping heartbeat should have given him away if nothing else.

  As the grip of lust loosened and Cain began thinking like a rational creature again, he realized that he owed Ronan a debt of thanks.

  A man sworn to protect his lady did not have shower sex while the last of the magical protection she had faded.

  Behind the door that had taunted him with its mere existence, he heard the water turn off. Rory would be stepping out of the shower now, all pink and dripping wet.

  She’d shown him what she looked like, sharing her perception of herself through their link. He knew exactly what shade of dusky pink her nipples were, and that her natural hair color was a pale ash blond. What he didn’t know was how her nipples tasted, or how those wet, blond curls would feel under his fingertips.

  Cain had never needed to know anything more in his life th
an the need to learn the answer to those compelling mysteries.

  “I conferred with Tynan and Logan,” said Ronan. “They both agree that there are two options for dealing with the blood link the demon has on us.”

  Cain had a hard time tracking the conversation. His mind was still firmly back in that shower with Rory, wondering how long he could hold out before pinning her against the wall as her fantasy demanded.

  The bathroom door opened at his back. He felt the wet caress of steam curl around him. It was scented with soap and hot, damp skin. Rory’s skin.

  Cain turned, unable to stop himself.

  She wore only a towel wrapped around her breasts. Her face was scrubbed free of makeup, showing off the rich, dark brown of her eyes. She’d removed her multiple earrings, leaving his luceria the only jewelry left on her body. A deep flush of arousal painted her cheeks. Water droplets clung to her skin.

  The mental image of him licking away each drop as he peeled away the towel plowed into him.

  Her lips parted on a silent breath, and her nipples tightened against the thin towel.

  One little tug and he’d be able to see for himself if her body was as beautiful as he’d seen through her eyes.

  Behind him, Ronan cleared his throat. “Are you going to decide?”

  “Decide what?” asked Cain, unwilling to take his eyes off of her for even a second. Opportunities to soak in such a rare sight did not come by often, even for men who lived as long as Cain had.

  “Which approach we take to deal with the demon that has Rory’s blood.”

  “Maybe Rory would like to decide herself,” she said. “After she puts some pants on.”

  She brushed past them and shut the door to her bedroom.

  “She doesn’t like me very much, does she?” asked Ronan.

  “You don’t respect her. You treat her as if she’s an idiot.”

  “She’s new to our world, to her power. It seems reasonable that she would defer to you in important matters.”

  That made Cain laugh, releasing a bubble of sexual frustration and tension. “Defer to me? Really? Have you met Rory?”

  Ronan frowned, but it made him look pensive and artistic. “I don’t know her as well as you do, clearly, but—”

  “But nothing. Women like Rory don’t defer to anyone. She’s like Gilda. If you’re lucky, you get to voice your opinion before she decides to ignore it.”

  “Stupid. Dangerous and stupid.”

  “You never would have said that to Gilda’s face. At least not twice.”

  Ronan nodded, a grimace of self-deprecation thinning his lips. “That is true. Though I doubt anyone could replace Gilda.”

  Grief caught in Cain’s throat, surprising him with its ferocity.

  Rory stepped out of her bedroom as she finished pulling a shirt down over her bare stomach. Her movements were rushed, her eyes plagued with worry. Those dark brown eyes met his. “Are you okay?”

  She’d felt his grief. Already their connection was deeper than he would have thought possible in such a short time.

  He was awestruck by it for a moment, unable to speak. Since Jackie had chosen Iain, he’d given up on the idea of finding a woman like Rory. He still wasn’t sure whether to believe she was real. Or that he’d get to keep her.

  “We were discussing an old friend, lost to us now,” said Ronan. “No need to worry.”

  Her cheeks turned as pink as her hair, and she stammered. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to butt in.”

  “You weren’t,” Cain hurried to tell her.

  A pink lock of wet hair clung to her cheek. Without thinking, he smoothed it back in place.

  Her skin was hot and damp, reminding him all too keenly of the shower fantasy they’d shared. Not that it was a sight he’d soon forget. She’d shown him how she liked to be touched, which spots were the most sensitive. That was not the kind of knowledge he would carelessly toss aside.

  Tie her to you with pleasure.

  The stray thought caught him off guard. His mouth went dry, and he had to force his hand to fall by his side so he wouldn’t wrap it around the nape of her neck and pull her in for a kiss. Then, finally, he’d know just how she tasted.

  Ronan cleared his throat. “So. About those options?”

  “Options?” asked Rory, a bit breathless.

  “For getting that Synestryn lord out of your head.”

  Right. That.

  Cain crossed his arms over his chest and stepped away. He couldn’t even look at her without losing every strand of concentration he had. She touched him too deeply, rocking him down to his core.

  “What are they?” he asked.

  Ronan had the good sense to address Rory directly. “I can sever the connection, which while the more permanent option, is also the more dangerous one. Or I can mask it, giving us enough time to track down this demon and slay it.”

  “Sever it,” she said, without hesitation.

  Cain suffered through a spike of fear before he got himself back under control. “Wait a minute. I think you need more details than that.” He looked at Ronan. “How dangerous? What are the risks?”

  “Death, for one.”

  “I’m okay with that,” she said. “I’m not okay with toting a demon around as some kind of brain buddy for the rest of my life.”

  “I’m not okay with it,” said Cain. “Your life is far too valuable to toss away.”

  “My life. My choice.”

  Ronan held up his hand for their attention. “I’m not done. Death is not the only risk. There’s also brain damage.”

  Rory went stiff and a little trickle of fear slid between them. “Yeah, I’m not a fan of that.”

  “It’s still better than the worst possible side effect.”

  She groaned. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

  “I’m certain you don’t. But I will not proceed unless you’re aware of the risks.”

  Cain couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t simply stand here, pretending like she wasn’t suffering. He felt her. He couldn’t ignore her distress.

  He threaded his fingers through hers. They were cold and trembling, bringing out every protective instinct he’d ever birthed. If he could, he would have tucked her away somewhere safe, but that was not an option. Not with Rory.

  “What’s the worst-case scenario?” Cain asked.

  “I fail utterly, and you will be trapped indefinitely within the Synestryn’s mind, unable to escape. You would essentially become part of the demon.”

  She stopped breathing as a palpable wave of fear rushed through her, straight through the luceria into Cain. He gritted his teeth, suffering through the emotion alongside her.

  Her voice shook harder than her fingers. “I’m not letting that happen.”

  “On that, we’re agreed,” said Cain as he pulled her up against his side. She fit perfectly under his arm, like a piece of himself that he’d been missing all his life.

  Ronan nodded once. “Good. Then I shall mask the beast and show you how to defend yourself against it, giving us enough time to find and destroy it.”

  “Do you know where it is?” she asked.

  Ronan’s pale blue gaze hit the carpet, as if he was hiding something. “I believe I can find it.”

  Something was off here. Cain was sure of it. “What aren’t you telling us?”

  The Sanguinar’s mouth flattened into a thin line of acceptance. “This creature is strong. Frighteningly so. The closer to it we get, the more power over us it will hold. And it’s not alone. I sensed connections to hundreds of demons. They bow to its will.”

  “So we’re not simply fighting one demon, we’re going after an army.”

  “I believe so, though it could be that the creature simply wanted me to believe that.”

  “No,” said Rory. She scooted tighter against Cain’s side and gripped his hand as if seeking comfort. “Ronan is right. Any demon that is strong enough to make us believe it has an army is probably strong enough to actually have one.�
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  Cain gathered a warm strand of comfort and sent it streaming through their link. He was amazed by how easily he’d learned to use their connection—as if he’d been born knowing how.

  Tears gathered along her lower eyelids for a moment before she blinked them away.

  In that moment, with fear bleaching her skin and her slender body trembling against his, he felt filled with a sense of purpose. It swelled in his chest, making him feel stronger, faster. Invincible.

  For Rory he would do anything—find a way to give her whatever she needed. She may not stay with him forever, but for now, she was his, and it was his duty—his joy—to provide for her.

  He squared his shoulders as determination buoyed him. “If this beast has an army, then I will build one as well.”

  A hot, bubbling feeling spread over his chest, tingling as it passed. His lifemark swayed like mad, as if tossed around by a fierce wind.

  Rory looked at him in shock, like she’d felt it, too. Maybe she had. Or maybe she was reacting to his declaration.

  She put her hand on his chest, and his heart leapt at the contact. “Are armies easy to come by in your crazy corner of the world?”

  “No, they are not,” said Ronan. “There are only a few bound couples available to help.”

  “They’ll come.” Cain was certain they would. “I’ll call Joseph and have him coordinate a meeting.”

  A fierce rush of eagerness flooded through the luceria. Beside him, Rory seemed to vibrate with anticipation. “And in the meantime, Ronan can scrub my brain. After that, target practice.”

  “Target practice?” Cain asked.

  “If I’m marching into war, I’d better at least know what kind of gun I’m carrying, don’t you think? I wasn’t so hot with fire. But I should be good at something useful.”

  He couldn’t bring himself to tell her that it could take years for her to grow comfortable with her abilities. She needed to believe she could do this, and because she needed it, so did he.